“Oh, yes. Sorry, I should probably text before I call so you know not to worry,” she said, the words sounding almost amused. Playful.
He liked it, and found himself relaxing.
“What’s up?”
“I was just wondering if maybe you had time to talk awhile.”
He scanned the conference table. “I’m heading back into a call here in the next few minutes.”
“Oh, of course, it definitely doesn’t need to be now. You know, just sometime. I could come by your office. Or meet you after work—you’re so busy, the evening would probably be better. But maybe not, because it’s late and you’re still working and I don’t want to—you know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s not hugely important or anything—”
“Darcy,” he cut her off, her fluster in trying not to inconvenience him somehow pushing a smile to his mouth. “Of course I’ll make time. What is it you wanted to talk about?”
A sigh filtered through the line, and the sultry quality of it curled around his senses, rubbing soft against the places he’d been trying to ignore.
“I was just thinking this little guy is going to have a very different experience growing up than I did. And, I don’t know,” she continued softly. “I was hoping maybe you’d tell me more about what it was like for you. What you’d like it to be like for him.”
Right. More information exchange, because that was the only reason she’d be calling. The only reason he wanted her to call. They’d agreed and for good reason. So yeah.
“How about this,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get in touch tomorrow to set up a block of time when we can talk. Also if there’s anything in particular you’ve got questions about or have on your mind, you can email me and I’ll try to get a response back to you by the next morning. Okay?”
“Um. Sure. Sounds great, Jeff,” she answered simply, but something had changed in her tone. There was no emotional inflection evident whatsoever. “Have a good night.”
“You, too.” He stared at the phone, suddenly on alert. Because he’d heard that total absence of anything in her voice before. In Vegas. When her impassive facade was hiding something she didn’t want seen.
Charlie walked back into the office and within a few keystrokes had a modified timeline up on the big screen. He glanced at Jeff. “Want to go over this before we pick up?”
* * *
Yellow. Box mix. Cake.
The mouthwatering revelation had struck Darcy like a lightning bolt shortly after talking to Jeff.
There’d been a heaviness in her chest after their call because, inexplicably, she’d gotten it in her head that talking to him might snap her out of this strange funk. But she didn’t feel any better. If anything she’d hung up feeling more adrift than she had before.
But what did she really expect. While Jeff definitely made her health and well-being a priority, the guy was busy. He had a life. Commitments to his corporation, his friends and whatever it was he did to fill his time when he wasn’t checking in to make sure her blood pressure was where it should be.
So she’d hung up and sat at the side of her bed, wishing she could muster some enthusiasm for anything. Hating the way she’d lost her appetite completely and how nothing sounded good to her. It had been a full-on pity party the likes of which she never indulged. And then, in a flash, inspiration.